An Earthly Love, An Eternal Love
My broken heart, he shattered,
I turned 'the other cheek',
only to be 'slapped' again.
He crushed my innocence,
but only wounded my courage,
With a broken heart,
I limped on and reached out
to save myself,
And eventually, I found you.
Crushed innocence found trust,
Reborn courage marched on,
in step with our singing hearts,
Of an earthly Love, an Eternal Love.
poem by Elke Nigro
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Picture Me
Picture me on a cold, wintry day,
the snow crunching under my feet,
snow flakes kiss me as we meet.
They whirl and twirl in wintry dance,
on the look-out for romance.
My joyous heart beats its wintry song,
I once again feel young and strong,
Revitalized and energized, I record
my footprints in the snow to tell
this day has not gone by,
watching through a window pane,
the magic wonder of transformed rain.
poem by Elke Nigro
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All That Glitters
Honesty comes in great supply by those
who have nothing more to lose,
the disenfranchised, the sick, the poor,
but who doesn't tire of their strident voices,
numbing us.
Not that we do not sympathize to some extent,
as we desperately hold on to what we
consider to be ours alone.
After all, it wasn't freely given to us.
Each man for himself,
voting according to his pocketbook,
doggedly pursueing all that glitters,
but may not be gold.
poem by Elke Nigro
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Bitter-Sweet Memories
Sorrow played its melodies,
sometimes slow, sometimes fast,
happiness coming and passing,
Sorrows never long-lasting.
Until a day, like no other day,
a heart-stopping blow
reduced me to tears of unending
flow.
Sorrow knew no boundaries,
endless tears brought no relief,
but flourished in their salted grief.
As time went by,
Sorrow wore a gentler face,
a blameless one I could embrace.
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poem by Elke Nigro
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Click, Click
Youthful, delicate, feminine, photogenic,
Her walk stops talk,
Lookers look on,
She catches my eye, points to herself,
her camera ready,
my hands willing, my fingers unsteady,
Her magnetic smile draws eyes
of passers-by,
A wolf-whistle, - Loud,
Laughter from the crowd,
Cameras lifted, click, click,
A reincarnation divine,
burst through eons of time,
Saphire eyes, raven hair,
confidence magnifed in electrified air,
Someone's shout: Elizabeth Taylor,
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poem by Elke Nigro
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Party At My House
At a party on Halloween Night
dressed in wedding white,
I Recite:
I can always go to a comedy show
so my man doesn't need to be funny.
And 'no thank you' to a man with money,
That alone won't make him my Honey,
Nor do I need him to have a degree,
or to be an ambitious climber in society,
But if he turns out to be some freak
or fanantic,
I'll have to lock him up in my attic
with all my husbands from before,
behind a heavy iron door,
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poem by Elke Nigro
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My Silent Witness
His car keys are missing. The spare
was lost some years ago,
He clears counters, opens drawers,
slams them shut, checks all pockets,
the hamper too,
Looks accusingly at me,
as if I were the one who drove home
last night.
Leaning on his horn, he rode the shoulder
like a maniac, had me frantic with distress.
I go for my Saturday morning walk, taking the dog,
avoiding his fury,
Some kind of order has been restored,
the shower is going, his place of refuge,
his regular golf game cancelled, I guess.
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poem by Elke Nigro
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Sitting On A Seesaw
Divorced, they live separately,
a few houses apart,
she: still leaning a bit on the past,
he: wondering why the marriage didn't last.
Still sitting on a 'seesaw', she is up,
and he is down,
hers is an exuberant smile,
his a questioning frown.
He keeps a watchful eye on who visits her,
and she doesn't mind, since it is legally known,
her life is now her very own.
After 30 years of marriage with no further
explanation,
other than she needed to live alone,
what led to it remains unknown.
She is pleased and feels safe and secure,
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poem by Elke Nigro
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Battleground Of Our Marriage
When did we start competing in our tireless,
endless marathon of accusations,
sometimes explosive, sometimes even cruel,
although not yet, devoid of hope and desire.
Each year’s harvest produced a fresh crop
of grievances, newly-employed tactics,
in an ever-increasing use of artillery
on the battlefield of our marriage.
At any cost, we played to win,
until we remembered who we were,
Husband and Wife.
The sheer madness and absurdity of it all,
the driving, shattering force of it
would sometimes have us collapse in laughter,
followed by a sweet truce, a quiet peace
before it would slowly transform itself again
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poem by Elke Nigro
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Needing Advice
(Son) Hey, Dad, have you got a minute? Actually
it's a little complicated. Could you meet me
at Cuss from Hoe over a beer or two?
(Dad) Now you have got me worried, big spender.
What's up?
(Son) I need some advice.
(Dad) O.K., see you in about twenty minutes.
(Dad) Well, son, I think I need something stronger
than two beers.
Are you sure he is dead?
(Son) Yeah, he is not breathing.
(Dad) And he is in your apartment?
(Son) Yeah, he came downstairs to watch the ball game. We
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poem by Elke Nigro
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